TRAPPED wiley and zeal
by ZeAl-FeRaL
Summary: My first ever fanfic. Based around the CBBC show 'trapped'. M for future themes and possible lemons. R&R. Zeal Feral is a 14-year-old trapped in the tower.


**My first ever fanfic.**

**It is from the cbbc show 'trapped'.**

**I know, I know, it's not intended for people my age but it's ****so**** cool!**

**Plz be gentle.**

**One day I just thought 'what would it be like to live in the tower?'**

**I invented my own character, Zeal Feral, who has a crush on Wiley Sneak.**

**And for those of you who don't know (meaning basically everyone) here is a little description of her for you:**

**She has very pale skin, blue eyes, very short brown hair squeezed into bunches, and roses growing in her hair!!!**

**She wears a jungley themed top underneath a green stripy hoodie.**

**She also wears jeans and blue chequered pumps/trainers.**

**She is 14**** and has obsessive compulsive disorder (like me!)**

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At first I didn't know what had woken me, I just lay there, with my eyes closed, listening to the soft, warm breathing of that angel of a boy next to me. When sleep failed to claim me once more I eased myself up into a sitting position and cast a look around.

The flower bags, the secret passageways, the slide to freedom: all indistinct shadows at this time of night. No matter how hard I tried, my eyes kept snapping back to the boy, his scarlet headband illuminated in the eerie half light.

There he lay, like a baby; knees tucked into his chest, eyes wandering behind closed lids, arms limp, lips slightly parted.

I longed to go to him, to share that warmth of self confidence, to throw my arms around him and… But I couldn't think about that. No, not for another boy. My hopes would be shattered once more for sure.

Wiley sneak would never like me.

I couldn't have known him for more than two months or so, yet he had still scratched the squiffy cartoon of him and me with a plus sign between us on the table at the disco.

But it could have meant anything.

Since then, nothing had changed.

We slept ½ a metre away from each other in a makeshift nest made of flour sacks and fur from the werewolf, the moon-howler and Madame Devasage.

After all, we only shared because there wasn't enough stuff to make 2 separate ones.

My eyes caressed Wiley's form once more and all of a sudden the boy's spine seemed to judder, he fists clenched, his legs twitched and his face contorted.

"Wiley?" I asked as I rushed overt to him.

He was hyperventilating and his eyes writhed in their sockets.

"Wiley!" I yelled this time, cradling his head in my lap. The only thing that seemed to be moving in a regular pattern were his lips, tracing the same words over and over again.

I couldn't lip-read but it looked like he was saying something like 'sil farl'.

What did it all mean?

I gingerly touched his forehead with my middle finger.

''siel fral' or 'zeal feral' wait that's my name!' I thought wondrously.

Just then Wiley sneak sat bolt upright which was a bad idea seeing as I was leaning over him.

There was the crack of two heads meeting and we must have both blacked out for a moment because the next thing I knew we were knelt down on the nest so our knees were touching.

I could tell something was wrong because he didn't smile like he usually did 24/7.

"What's wrong?" I said "Wiley?"

The crouched semi-silhouette in front of me shrugged.

"You were, err, calling out to me- well _ish_ 'cause you haven't talked for like, 100 years but erm…do you have nightmares?"

Wiley shut his eyes and nodded vaguely as if it wasn't a subject he wanted to discuss.

"You can talk to me, honest- well not literally obviously but who could I tell? - don't answer that one!" I added hastily, thinking of the caretaker and his mouth.

Slowly, the boy nodded and turned to look at me. I was startled to see a trickle of moisture emerge from the corner of his eye and begin its journey down his cheek.

"You dream about getting trapped, don't you?"

He nodded.

Then he did something utterly unexpected- he placed the index finger of each hand on the sides of my head- was he going to kiss me?

Not really knowing what to do, I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers in my pockets.

All of a sudden I felt this weird pressure in my brain, like someone was trying to get into it. I frowned and opened an imaginary door, which surprisingly, seemed to lead to another consciousness.

Wiley's consciousness.

Full of lonely voices, shrieks of laughter and old, sad, faded memories.

This was not what a mind should look like at all.

It was broken and desolate as an island in the middle of the sea.

But amid the chaos, there was a blinding light- hope?

It was my face.

Suddenly, I heard an echoing male voice

_Not in there!_

It was more like a really clear thought than speech, yet understandably, I was still surprised.

It was surprisingly easy to think talk- like making jewellery out of different pictures and impulses, but evidently it took a bit of getting used to.

_Can we talk like this all the clock… sorry, wrong picture, __err… time?_ I asked him.

_Not all the time, don't like telling._ Came his reply.

_I'm__ so sorry,_ he carried on,_ I trapped you here, and I broke your heart._

He sounded so… well … sad.

He withdrew our newfangled mental connection giving me the sensation that someone had just poured liquid nitrogen over my head.

I found myself back on floor 1 of the tower, the half light entering through a gap in the door.

After a few seconds of silence, I found my voice again;

"what do you mean you 'broke my heart', so what if I'm trapped, condemned to a life of doing evil things and being lonelier than I have ever been in my life but think what the voice would do if you didn't trap me? It's not your fault, please don't feel guilty, I couldn't bear it if you were upset" I quickly looked away, embarrassed, but a certain person had other ideas.

_I__ saw inside your head too_ oh no what's he seen? _There was a picture of me with hearts all around it, what does it mean?_

For a moment I lost myself in those velvety hazel 128 year old eyes.

There was no point in denying it now – he had all the evidence he needed.

_I would have never survived if it wasn't for you._

_You too zeal._

_What?!_

_I'm__ sorry were both so lonely, but can we be lonely together?_

_What?!_

_I'm so confused, I thought everyone was my enemy so I decided never to trust anyone ever ever ever ever again, but now in telling all this stuff to the beautiful girl with roses in her hair, who for all I know could be the worst enemy i've ever had, of the sun reflected into the sea made into a girl._

He ran his thumb over my lips.

_I trust you, flower girl, more than anyone._

I thought about all the boys who had lied to me, imbedded in the undulating mist of my forgotten past.

_I trust you __more than anyone too._

_Would you ever lie to me?_

_Never._

_Never ever?_

_Never ever ever._

_Then tell me why I saw a picture of me in your head with flowers and wiggly-bits all around it?_

_Erm…_

I raised my arm and wiped the tear off his cheek never leaving his gaze.

"I err… care about you"

Now horrifically embarrassed, I began picking at a fleck of mud on my shoe.

_Zeal?_

_Mmmmm?_

_Can we be alone together?_

"I don't get it!" I said, frustrated.

_And?_

_You're__ making me angry!_

_You're__ making me think of you._

"You think of_ me?_" I replied, utterly flabbergasted.

_No. I think of dead mice because they're more interesting._

"Liar, liar, pants on fire!" I wish I'd never said that. And yeah, it was stupid, what I did next, and I guess I was just showing off to be honest.

I flexed my muscles and twisted my arm around until the impact against the boys face.

There was a cracking noise, followed by a whistely-screecky sound emitted from Wiley.

Oops.

Steam literally billowed from his ears.

In a fit of anger, I tried to wield my palm again, but he seized both hands, twisted them around behind my back and pulled me towards him.

The ends of our noses were millimetres away.

My heartbeat quadrupled- I could feel my pulse through a certain person's fists.

"You like me, don't you?" I whispered in the gloom.

A low whistle and an eyebrow flash was his response.

He released his grip but I stayed where I was, transfixed by those eyes again.

"Do you like, wanna g-go out with me or something?"

_What?_

"Erm…old fashioned word… err…sweethearts?"

I felt his fingers scrape the collar of my top away and trail south until they found the scrap of material, hanging from my neck by a chain.

He frowned at the fraying scarlet strip as he brought it to eye level.

_What is this?_

I couldn't be bothered any more.

I began to tell him everything- there wasn't any point in lying again.

He had all the evidence anyway.

"It's a scrap from your headband, I remember it got caught up on my watch the day I got trapped, and I always kept it, you know why?"

He shook his head meekly.

"Because it belonged to the funniest, bravest, mysteriousness, and not to mention sneakiest boy I have ever met... I-I l-love you!" I choked, consumed by a sob, and before I could stop myself I placed a kiss on his headband- making his face turn exactly the same colour.

_Zeal?_

"Y-yes-s?"

_Will you go out with me?_

I don't think I have ever, or will ever scream as loud as I did after he asked me that question, the look in his eyes as he thought it, or the way they glistened- I could see my reflection in them.

He moved a little closer and I felt him pull on the chain around my neck.

I was a little embarrassed but I leaned forward anyway.

It was magical when our lips met.

His hands held my back as I ran my fingers through his hair.

Eventually, after what could have been seconds, minutes or even several indistinct tower days, the need for oxygen took over.

I put my chin on his shoulder and smiled.

Yes.

He loosened his grip on me enough to look me in the eye.

_Ok_ I thought to myself _he proberably wants me to say something vaguely intelligent so err… here goes…_

"You taste of bat spleens" why why why why why why why did I say that? This angel tasted of cold ice cream on 1000 sunny days, hot chocolate in the rain, and water in the desert.

Nothing like bat spleens.

And believe me, I should know.

Drat.

Would he be insulted?

Would I be … dare I even think of it … d-d-d-dumped?

Not again.

Instead, the response was:

_You're__ lying zealy-stein._

"Wha? Err – yeah but-"

_Liar, liar, erm… something on fire! You know what that means?_

"Erhem…like…I mean-"

_I get to tickle you __until you look like a lamented concubine of a flid- squeeze!_

"Wiley! That's _my_ catchphrase and you got the words wrong anyway. The words are 'demented half cousin of a Swiss cheese, and that's just if you poke somebody!"

_Ahh… oh well!_

So saying, the boy grabbed me around the waist and wrestled me to the ground, rolling me off the nest.

Before I could register what was happening I found myself wedged in-between the floor and Wiley's knee.

He produced his left index finger, and began prodding my shoulder wearing an expression akin to a boy eating sweets.

Even so, I found myself in fits of laughter, when not more than a moment ago I had been sobbing.

"Ok…ok…i've learned-OW- my lesson… please let me go because my arms gone dead and -HA HA HA! - and I can't feel my –erm– well… your knee is _rather sharp!!_"

He relaxed his grip, stood up and held out his hand.

I took it, feeling the rough texture of his fingerless gloves against my palm as Wiley sneak pulled me onto my feet.

His fingers entwined into mine and, still holding hands, we climbed back into our warm nest.

I was about to settle down in one corner when Wiley grabbed a lock of my hair and pulled.

_What do you think you're doing?_ He raised one eyebrow sending a multitude of girly feelings to my heart.

"I'm going to bed you lemming head"

_Not you're side any more._

"What?!"

_Not 'your side' or 'my side' any more. Its all one nest aint it?_

"Well yes but…"

_Then we sleep whichever side we want._

"Err… yeah, ok…"

He entwined his arms around my waist while I nervously held his shoulders.

_I could eat you!_

A gobbet of drool slid down his chin.

"Eurgh! What would you want to do that for?"

_You're__ yummy enough._

_Ill take that as a compliment._

_Whatever!_

So saying (or rather, thinking) the angel of a boy tightened his arms and put a hand behind my head.

Our lips locked again and so did our minds- forming a whole spectrum of thoughts and feelings.

But by far the loudest thought, and the last one I heard before I was swallowed by the ocean of sleep came form Wiley, and it was this:

_I love you too._


End file.
